kwonalek:
“never,” he promises. he knows deep down, he doesn’t hate lysander. the opposite, actually (there’s no point denying it anymore. his feelings have been there for a very long time and never went away). he isn’t promising to ever stop hating him, but to never stop loving him and effectively dooming himself to a life of heartache and loneliness. as if lysander would ever return his feelings and see him as more than a pathetic plaything. he’s never resented the existence of soulmates more than he does right at this moment–not when his father left and destroyed him and his mother, not when he first found out lysander is his soulmate but now that he’s opened his eyes, he wishes soulmates didn’t exist. he wishes he’d never crossed path with lysander again. he wishes he’d been strong enough and walked away a week ago. he wishes he’d never befriended him in high school. he wishes, he wishes, he wishes still his fate remains unchanged. crazy how he’s craved to find his soulmate for so long and now it only brings him despair. fucking fate. whatever self-control alek had left is gone the moment lys grinds up against him and using one of his hand, he pins his hips down, halting the delicious movements with a disapproving tsk sound. the faint pitter-patter sound of his puppy walking to the kitchen lifts enough of the lust induced fog his mind is in to get him to think with the brain in his head not the one straining his pants. can’t do that in front of the dog, alek. with ease, he carries lysander to his bedroom, nearly running into the wall in the process, mouth still slotted with lysander’s, exploring and tasting, and using his foot, he pushes the door closed with a loud bang.
at four in the morning, he wakes up with a start, his biological clock kicking in. he doesn’t have to be up today, he’s still off work for a few days to recover from the hell that was the previous week but his mind is wide awake and ready to start the day while his body aches much to his puzzlement. he lies there contemplating what to do when a warm and very naked body snuggles up to him. alek freezes, his mind blank and wondering who in the hell the person is until images of the previous night come flooding back. alek blushes the darkest shade of red possible. sleeping with his soulmate was unlike anything he’s ever felt before, the sensations heightened by the bond they share. he craves to feel his warmth under his palms again, to kiss and taste every inch of lysander’s sun-kissed skin, to get him begging and writhing underneath him but he stays perfectly still. this can never happen again. releasing years of pent up anger, bitterness and love, has helped soothe alek some but their issues won’t be resolved until they have a serious chat. he isn’t looking forward to it.
with a heavy sigh, he turns his head to look at his soulmate. sleeping, the other looks different, softer, younger even. the arrogance he exudes nowhere to be seen. to alek, he’s never looked more beautiful. with a shake of his head, he leaves the warmth of his bed and goes to the bathroom to take a quick shower. all that he thinks about as he scrub the remnant of the night is how much he’d like lysander’s hands on him. for fuck’s sake. alek has done a lot of stupid things over the years, in the past four years especially, but this, by far, takes the cake. he’ll never be able to forget how the other tastes, the sounds that escape him when he touches him just right, how he feels around him. he’s screwed up so bad, so bad. he wipes his hand across the foggy mirror, a startled sound falling from his lips when he catches sight of the hickeys that decorate his neck, collarbones, torso and hips. he should be angered lysander had marked his skin so much but all that happens is his heart flipping in happiness in his chest. fucking traitor. after putting on a pair of sweatpants, he heads down to kitchen to make some breakfast. not having eaten anything since lunch yesterday, he feels ravenous. he doesn’t know how long it takes him, but once he’s done the kitchen is filled with various pastries, two apple pies, waffles and way too much eggs and bacon.
Lysander was a night owl, so it was highly unusual for the male to fall asleep before midnight. However, making love to his soulmate had thoroughly drained him of all of his energy, so shortly post-coitus, Lysander remembered snuggling up to the warm body beside him and falling asleep into his strong arms. Was that even an appropriate term for what they had done last night, love making, considering the fact that Alek kept repeating to Lysander that he hated him? His body was still aching from how rough the other had been with him. Lysander wasn’t used to his bed partners being that way, and most of the time, he was the one in control. Never in a million years would the male have though he’d enjoy something crude like that, but admittedly, Lysander wouldn’t mind it happening again, and again, especially with Alek. In fact, he was hoping for a ‘round two’ as soon as his eyes fluttered open. All it took was one night with Alek, and now he was hooked on him. Feeling so needy for this guy felt unnatural, and incredibly embarrassing, but Lysander couldn’t help the way his body was reacting to him. It had to be ‘the soulmate thing’, heightening his desires, making him crave Alek so badly, almost like a drug.
“Mhmm, Alek,” his name came out of his mouth as a wanton moan. Lysander rarely called him by his name before, but calling him ‘Bunny’ felt a little weird after last night. The boy rolled over, only to find out that Alek wasn’t in the bedroom anymore. Did he go shower without him? Did he leave entirely? His face scrunched up, offended that Alek apparently preferred spending his time away from him. It confused him too, because had he not experienced the same sensations that Lysander had felt? Didn’t Alek crave Lysander just as badly?
Still naked, Lysander looked around the room for his clothes, while contemplating his next steps. Perhaps Alek was still in the shower, and he could surprise him by joining him, but would the other boy appreciate that? Alek was so stubborn and immature about everything, and arguments between the two of them seemed to be never-ending, so he wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk. Lysander slid on his tight pair of boxers, then noticed Alek’s t-shirt on the floor, right near his feet, and decided to put that on instead of his own Gucci button-down, not wanting to risk getting it dirty. The shirt still smelled like Alek, sweat mixed with a cheap cologne and a faint scent of bread and pastries lingered on the white cotton fabric. All of which sounded disgusting, and yet Lysander didn’t mind wearing it, nor did smelling like him bother him. Fluttering his eyes closed, the boy imagined Alek wearing it, and involuntarily licked his lips. There was nothing special about the simple tee, and yet he had looked so good wearing them. So fucking hot...
Lysander had to force himself to snap out of his lewd thoughts about Alek. He tiptoed down the hall, in search of his soulmate, slightly anxious, because he didn’t know what to expect. The scent of freshly baked apple pie made it very easy to find him, though. Feline eyes widened as he stepped into the messy kitchen. Was this guy baking to feed an orphanage? Why was he baking at this hour in the first place? “You idiot, what are you doing?” he asked, knitting his brows into a puzzled frown as he approached the boy, who was vigorously rolling out some dough. Insulting him probably wasn’t the right way to go about getting what he wanted from him, but Lysander just couldn’t help himself. “Stop.” The blonde placed his hand on top Alek’s, in an attempt to stop him. “Just... Just take a break, alright?” he suggested softly, looking up at him through hooded eyes as his fingertips gently rubbed the other male’s knuckles. “After all, it’s still so early... Maybe we should go back to bed for a bit, mhm?”
